Hack My Heart!
by New DCD
Summary: A collection of Joker/Futaba one-shots, drabbles, and the works. 2 - Jail Bird Blues: During his stay in juvenile hall, the leader of the Phantom Thieves receives a visitor. 3 - Rouse: Young lovers get a rude awakening. 4 - Mementos: A widowed father reminisces. 5 - Last Surprise: She never saw it coming. 6 - Intermission: Icy Gaze: Joker.txt has been saved to the desktop.
1. Love Logistics

**NOTES:** Send help. These two drive me to write. They are the ideal. The OTP to end all OTPs.

...Man, this attitude is really undignified coming from a grown-ass man, ain't it...

* * *

The clock was ticking down.

Soon, he'd have to leave Tokyo and head back to his hometown. He was reluctant to head back; despite all the struggles and the pain that came hand in hand with them, these had truly been the best days of his life. Yes - even accounting for his experiences on the receiving end of police brutality and as a juvenile detainee.

Plus, there was the whole thing in which the Phantom Thieves saved the world. Even if just a handful of people remembered, that was a nice ego booster.

He was not looking forward to going back to uncaring, distant parents or a town where everybody's a stranger. The best memories he'd made in his life had been here in Tokyo.

Memories...

"Let's make one more...for the road," Futaba's voice echoes in his head.

He closed his eyes and a contented grin slowly crawled across his countenance. The fragrance of the coffee he brewed helped led him to reminisce. The same aroma had permeated Leblanc on Valentine´s Day.

The memory they'd decided to make back then, their first kiss...it had been soft. Gentle. Her hands rested against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders...

He cradled her dainty form delicately, and allowed himself to melt into the tenderness.

That fleeting moment, an eternity of bliss, transpired swiftly, and both basked in that afterglow, resting against each other.

Futaba was right. Such recollections would get them through until the next time they met.

Still, he wanted more. Why settle for just one?

The clock was ticking down, but it had not struck yet.

* * *

He spun the ballpoint pen in his hand before tapping his chin with the writing implement. Usually, whenever he took her out on dates, he'd be spontaneous when selecting their destination. She rarely had any places she'd want to go in mind, having been a homebody for so long, so she gladly let him take the lead when it came to that.

This time, however, the concept of time weighed on him, so he wasn't entirely comfortable with impromptu selections. No, this time he wanted to plan ahead. The list in front of him, which consisted entirely of scratched-off possibilities attested to that.

He sighed in frustration as he rubbed his temple with his free hand. He wanted to make it unforgettable...but for starters, any moment he spent with her was that to him by default. That made it hard to narrow down the selection.

As for her, hey, eidetic memory.

Morgana, sitting atop the nearby chair, let out a yawn. He considered bouncing ideas off the not-cat before dismissing the thought. From the looks the most-certainly-not-a-feline was giving him, the second he opened his mouth would be the second the critter would tell him to go to sleep.

The other Thieves? He could text them, sure, but his relationship with Futaba was still a secret they hadn't decided to let the others know as of yet (mainly because it'd be awkward for his girlfriend).

Ask Ryuji? Capital idea, if he wanted tomorrow's newspaper headline to be "Local Convict and Loveable Nerd Pursue Romantic Relationship!". He loved the guy like his own brother, but he was hardly the best at keeping a secret. Granted, he could always hope he wouldn't be perceptive enough to realize he was asking for a ~date~ spot, but the leader of the Phantom Thieves knew Ryuji's cleverness and perception did not often receive the credit they deserved.

Ask Yusuke, maybe? Sure, he wouldn't tell anyone, even if he knew, but his idea would probably involve lots and lots of painting. He could't shake the mental image of Yusuke waiting hours if not days in the spot he suggested, sketchbook in hand, expression severe to the point of frightening, waiting for him and Futaba and trailing them the whole date, drawing every single thing they did. Then Futaba and 'Inari' would have a verbal spat...

What about Makoto? She's undisputably reliable, yes, but if he learned anything during his time as her pretend-boyfriend, it's that she has absolutely no idea what a relationship entails, so her counsel might not cut it. Hell, even if it did, maybe she'd be just like Yusuke and tail them, trying to further 'study' the topic of 'romance'. At least she'd have the decency to hide behind a manga when spying on them, he thought.

So, Ann: the best choice so far, relatively speaking, but that didn't make her a good one. For one, her suggestions would invariably involve sweets. Also, while she'd be more tactful than Ryuji, she'd be so giddy about it she'd eventually slip.

That just left Haru. The notion alone made him cringe. That'd just be plain cruel, considering...

He didn't want to think about Haru, so his mind immediately wandered - to Goro Akechi, of all people. Sure, he couldn't ask the traitorous so-called Detective Prince for advice. One, he was presumed dead. Two, would you ask a guy who tried to splatter your brains against the wall for advice? Still, wanting to flee his own guilty ruminations concerning a particular heiress, he pictured him in his mind.

Only there wasn't one Goro Akechi, but rather two.

One of them was clad in his perfectly pressed school blazer, held on to a silver suitcase in gloved hands, and wore the million-yen smile that made so many girls around the nation swoon.

The other one wore the black armor from their final Metaverse encounter - the one that looked like a Featherman reject.

School Akechi, making himself useful like the real deal loved to pretend to, immediately started listing locations like fancy restaurants and high-end hotels. Places most girls would be ecstatic to be taken to, but Futaba - and the boy groaned at his own use of the old cliché - was not like other girls. School Akechi droned on and on, and it soon became clear that this Akechi's input would not help him.

Sketchy Akechi, silent so far but staring at his double behind deranged eyes, finally chipped in, somewhat unintelligible thanks to School Akechi's incessant prattling.

"...ck her right in the p...!"

Was it possible to glare at a figment of your own imagination? The second-year student wasn´t sure, but let it be known that it wouldn't be for a lack of trying.

Sketchy Akechi just gave him a murderous, unpleasant grin in return.

At this rate, the leader of the Phantom Thieves thought as he escaped the make-believe, I might as well ask Sojiro. That'll go over well.

The only result he expected for asking the man who might as well be more a father to him than his own kin was his face making immediate acquaintance with a scalding, masterfully-concocted brew.

He could make due without third-degree burns, he decided.

The leader of the Phantom Thieves collapsed against the backrest and moaned.

Stealing Treasures? Walk through the park.

Shooting a god through its stupid face? Piece of cake!

Planning a date with the girlfriend he might not be able to see for months? Now that was a merciless challenge.

If only it could be as easy as when they all agreed to go to the beach...

...

...Wait a moment. Beach!

Sure, going to the beach during winter wasn't something he'd do, but it made the dusty cogs in his brain start turning again.

He recalled that Futaba mentioned she couldn't swim during their infiltration of Shido's Palace.

There it was. Perhaps not the most romantic of schemes, but both practical and undeniably fun.

It totally had nothing to do with seeing Futaba in a swimsuit again, although it'd be a nice bonus.

(Okay, maybe it had a little do with it. He was still boy, after all).

(No, he was NOT imagining Sketchy Akechi making finger guns at him).

He shook his head and retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. It was time to get to work. Searching through his messaging contacts, he tapped on Yuki Mishima's information.

Yuki, I need some information. Phantom Thief business.

 **Mishi-MAN** : What?! I thought you guys could no longer be Phantom Thieves after those freaky happenings back during Christmas.

Yeah, we lost our powers, but that doesn't mean I'm going to slack off.  
I want to find a public swimming pool. The less visitors it gets, the better.

 **Mishi-MAN** : Ooh, gotcha.  
 **Mishi-MAN** : Yeah, I know a place.  
 **Mishi-MAN** : There's a rooftop public pool on a building over Shibuya that opened recently. Since it's all the way up top, not many people know about it yet.

That sounds good.

 **Mishi-MAN** : I'm sending you the location, hold on.

Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.

 **Mishi-MAN** : Don't mention it! I'm glad I could help.

Well, that takes care of that. Next up, he'd have to give the player character her new quest...dang, his girlfriend's mannerisms were rubbing on him. Not that he minded.

Hey.  
You free tomorrow?

 **Alibaba** : Hey~ Let me check my extremely busy schedule and I'll get back to you.  
 **Alibaba** : Oh, would you look at that.  
 **Alibaba** : It's aaaaaaaaaaaall booked.  
 **Alibaba** : BUT...since it's my key item who's asking, I'll cancel all my appointments for tomorrow.  
 **Alibaba** : 3333.

Seems he was rubbing off on her, too. Not that he mided.

Great! We're off on a game-changing quest tomorrow.  
It's going to yield lots of experience points as well as a new special skill.

 **Alibaba** : Ohhh, color me interested.

Yeah, pack your swimsuit. We're going to a pool tomorrow.

 **Alibaba** : Wait. Joker.  
 **Alibaba** : I don't know how to swim...

Exactly.  
I'm going to teach you. That's the special skill you'll earn by clearing this quest.

 **Alibaba** : I suppose it could be fun...  
 **Alibaba** : ...You sure you didn't come up with this just because you wanted to see me in swimwear, though?

You saw right through me.

 **Alibaba** : Mwehehehe! I'm flattered.  
 **Alibaba** : Well, you're going to be in your trunks, so I suppose it's an equivalent exchange.  
 **Alibaba** : All right! Quest, accepted!

He smirked. All that was left now was to wait for the next day.

* * *

He'd have to thank Mishima again later. The establishment was practically deserted - outside the staff scattered here and there, it was just him and Futaba. The pool itself sat under a massive skylight roof, and the sunlight filtering through the tinted glass danced on the surface of the chlorinated water.

She lagged behind a little as they approached the pool, and she ended up staring down at him from the edge as he strode into the shallow side of the natatorium.

"Come on," he said. "Water's nice and warm".

She, however, kept studying the manmade reservoir, seemingly hesistant.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"N-no. Well, not really..." her foot broke through the liquid and she began to descend the ladder. "J-just don't be mean about it, okay?"

His mind didn't register her request until she was standing in front of him.

While his body was submerged from the middle of his torso downwards, Futaba's short stature meant that, proportionally speaking, a lot more of her was underwater.

Namely, the water reached just above her chin.

He pressed his palms together and smooshed his fingers against his mouth as his face flushed. "You're so precious, I think I might die..."

Within the liquid, Futaba fidgeted. "H-hey, don't go saying things like that...if you do," she fidgeted some more, "It'll make it hard to focus on anything other than you..."

Shot through the heart! And Futaba's to blame!

It took him a moment, but he managed to get his head back on the game. "Here," he started as he pushed up a pair of glasses that weren't there in an attempt to hide his flustered façade. So much for the ever-cool Joker. "Let's start with some kicking exercises".

Futaba was not the most physically adept of people, but being a genius did mean that she caught on to the concepts quickly, albeit somewhat clumsily. Soon enough, he was leading her by the hand around the shallow end as she splashed up a storm from her prone position. Muttering some words of encouragement, he let go of her hands, intending for her to practice her breaststrokes.

Sure enough, she did. Perhaps awkward, perhaps graceless, but serviceable enough so she wouldn't drown.

"All right," he snapped his fingers. "Let's do something".

Before she could have any say on the matter, the boy had elegantly glided to the other end of the pool - the deep end, and deep it was: easily three to four times as deep as he was tall. Floating, he cockily leaned against the edge before gesturing at his student.

"Try and reach me!"

Rather than speak up in protest, Futaba's eyes flared up with defiance. Challenge accepted.

What followed was a series of undignified, heavy splashes as a mess of flailing limbs somehow managed to propel itself through water.

Hey, whatever works.

Finally, she had almost reached him. He drifted away from the wall and stretched out his arms while using his legs to stay afloat.

With a final stroke, she lunged at him. "Oof!"

Their combined weight took some adjusting to, but the young man was proficient enough to account for both of them and not sink.

Of course, Futaba did not make it any easier for him, breaking into a series of hysterical giggles. Her laughter infectuous, he, too, began to chuckle, adding to the difficulty of his current dilemma.

Somehow, by the time their mirth subsided, they had managed to avoid submerging.

Futaba clung tighter to him. "I think that's quest complete! So do I get any other rewards?"

"Hmmm...Sure, that can be arranged," her boyfriend uttered huskily. He started to lean in closer, and she responded in kind...

"W-Whoah!" A youthful male voice coming from behind them interrupted the two young lovers. Their moment ruined, they turned their heads to the source of the untimely interference.

"...Mishima?"

"H-hey there, man..." Yuki muttered nervously.

"...What are you doing here?" he was sure the homicidal edge in his voice was apparent, being that Yuki Mishima visibly shrank at his question. Good, he thought.

"W-well, I wanted to see what sort of super-special Phantom Thief training you would be doing, maybe learn a thing or two..." the Phan-Site admin nervously tried to hide the cell phone he had on hand, but it was too late. There was no doubt in his friend's mind that Yuki Mishima had come here with the intent of recording him in action - and action he found".

"Mishima, ol' buddy, ol' pal...I'll give you fifteen seconds so you can clear the pool edge and start running".

"Eep!"

So begun the greatest chase of our time.


	2. Jail Bird Blues

Staring at the dreary ceiling was quickly becoming his equivalent to a pastime.

There was not much else to do in this place; only wait for the next interrogation and lay on the uncomfortable cot while allowing his mind to wander.

Wander back to Christmas Eve - and the hurt in her voice.

"I wish you wouldn't keep secrets from me... I've been with you long enough to know when you're not telling me things..."

Her voice echoes within his mind and brings forth a bittersweet tingle under his skin.

He had made the girl he loved worry, and he constantly suppressed himself from imagining her reaction to his incarceration...but when she said those words, he couldn't help but feel a little relief, and a little pride.

Futaba had made great strides in the short time he'd known her. It was something he admired in his girlfriend, really: how she'd keep on keeping on, little by little, moving ahead. Step by step, undeterred, unyielding. She would falter, she would hesitate, but she'd keep trying until she reached her goal.

This was worth it. Being held here, in juvenile hall, staring at a badly-plastered off-white ceiling overhead was worth it; for her sake and that of everyone he cherished. She would keep moving towards the future. If the price was his future in turn, he was more than willing to pay.

This is fine, he thought to himself as he let sleep claim him.

* * *

Tapping on the solid steel door to the cell tore him from his slumber. The grille hatch on the upper middle of the portal slid to the side, and a guard peeked through the spyhole. "Ya got a visitor," he said. "Come with me".

Groaning, the leader of the Phantom Thieves nodded his head in an attempt to shake off the remaining grogginess. The loud clanks and whirls of heavy metal latches coming undone rang in his ears and reverberated in his skull like a drum, filling him with something resembling nausea.

Rusty hinges protested as the hefty slab swung inwards, a tall warden with a sour face and lanky physique standing on the entryway. Wordlessly, he gestured the prisoner to follow him, dour gaze advising against any funny business the detainee may have in mind. Just as well, thought the Thieves' own Joker - he had no intention of being anything other than a model inmate.

Footsteps echoed through empty halls as Joker wondered what Sae Nijima had come to talk about. Perhaps she had need of more testimony, or maybe she brought news regarding the development of the case against Masayoshi Shido - if that were true, he certainly hoped they were good tidings.

When he walked into the visitor's room, the person on the other side of the bulletproof glass was not whom he expected.

She couldn't bear to look at him. She averted her vision, as if he was made of light and staring would blind her.

He froze. The fearless Phantom Thief couldn't will himself to move his legs. His breath was caught up in his throat. He, too, could not bring himself to look, and cast his head down guiltily.

He didn't want to crave freedom, but for all his staunch resolution, Futaba's presence made him afraid he'd waver.

"Ya got twenty minutes. I'll be back then".

Joker grunted a dismissive affirmation, eyes glued to the ground. Metal clamored once more, and he was alone with the beautiful ghost of the life left behind.

When he finally managed to muster the strength to raise his head, he noticed she had moved onto the chair, and was sitting normally for once. Her unreadable expression made him nervous, but...she always tried so hard to confront her demons, if little by little...

The least he could do is try and reciprocate a little.

As if possessed, he shambled towards his own seat and settled on the folding aluminium bench, avoiding eye contact all the while. They stayed like that, somber silence settling harshly in the bitingly cold air.

He tried to ignore her quivering shoulders. He really did.

The quiet was deafening.

"Hey..." he finally uttered, knowing they couldn't continue like this.

The stillness was punctured by a muted sob. Then another. His insides twisted and churned at being confronted with the truth he tried so hard to blind himself to.

He...he needed to say something. "How come you're here? As far as I know, only Nijima has visitation rights thanks to her status as prosecutor..."

"I-I..." the bespectacled girl spoke, her eyes shut tight in an attempt to prevent teardrops from escaping. "Makoto's sister. I...I asked her for help, and..."

"I see..."

The noiselessness overtook once more.

The boy stared at a single spot on the ceiling, much like he always did within his cell.

He was a special prisoner. Solitary confinement, and kept from the rehabilitation programs juvenile hall is known for. Kept isolated from the other inmates, for the administration feared he might influence them through unknown means. Sae had clearly pulled a lifetime worth of strings to make this meeting happen. He wished she hadn't -Now he had to face the pain he'd inflicted on Futaba. Even if it was to protect her, and everyone else...he couldn't help but think the worst of himself for doing so. A more logical part of him screamed that this was the only course of action he could take, for everyone's sake...but rationality takes the back seat when the person you're in love with is on the other side of cold glass.

"...Sorry I didn't tell you anything," he begun weakly. "You saw right through me back then. Christmas Eve, I mean".

She merely nodded dispiritedly in return.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. He willed his eyelids to open once more after deep contemplation and turned to the crestfallen visitor, who much like him moments before still refused to steal even a glimpse of him.

"Hey...look at me. Please. Just for a moment".

Watery deep violet gems, juxtaposed behind thick-rimmed glasses, slowly came to greet him. God, he loved those.

He did not permit himself to fall into ruminations once more. "You've come a long way, you know? That's not something you could've done back when we first met. I'm proud".

The smallest hint of a smile twitched on the corner of her lip, making what he was about to do all the more difficult for the captive.

"Hey...you don't...you don't need me any more, you know? We should call it off..."

Time froze. Even if those words came from his own mouth, they were no less biting, as if he had plunged a knife deep into his belly and sliced across. Then, an odd disconnect, as if he were only a spectator watching distant events unfold. The person he was supposed to be kept mumbling arguments about how she had her own life to live and he would be kept behind bars for who knows how long. How someone as amazing as her could easily find someone else, someone better than him, someone who did not have to rot in a jail cell and had no future prospects with his criminal record looming over him, how-

The sheer hurt in the paralyzed girl's purple pools pulled his awareness back into his vessel, and he immediately stopped talking.

The moment paused once more, as he took in all of her sorrow.

Sorrow then gave way to indignation. Indignation gave way to anger.

Her hands slammed down on the table in front of him with such force, Joker leapt up a bit in his seat. "Don't you **DARE** give me that crap!"

It was the first time, Joker realized, she'd been legitimately angry at him.

" _Someone_ better? I don't care if _someone_ like that exists! I want to be with **YOU**!" she continued. "You think you are the only one who's supposed to make decisions around here?! Don't be so **selfish**!"

Her tense body, trembling with anger, slacked considerably. "I...I would be okay with it if...actually, I wouldn't be okay with it, it'd hurt me a lot, yet...I k-know you feel the same way I do," she shifted uncomfortably, shrinking, furious valor from before evaporating quickly. "What I'm trying to say is...if you s-stopped feeling the way you do about me, I'd eventually come to accept it. But I know that isn't what's going on here".

"Futaba..."

"I hate this. I hate that you're always so kind. Putting others before you...putting me before you. At the very least, I wish you would have confided in me...".

"You would've tried to stop me," Joker said sadly.

"Of course I would've! Why is it always you that has to take the fall! It's...It's not fair," she cried.

Joker shook his head. "The world isn't fair. You and I know this better than anyone".

"Still!" Futaba protested. "We might've found another way. A different way!"

"I'm sorry, but...this was the only thing that could be done, under those circumstances. You know this, Futaba...I just wanted to..."

"You don't...have to say it".

"..."

With a soft 'thud', Futaba's forehead pressed against the glass separating her from her love. "I..." Tears began to fall unhindered. "...I will wait for you. As long as it takes. I won't let you try to talk me into doing otherwise..."

He gave a wistful grin before flattening his own forehead against the barrier, level with hers. "Okay..."

Even through the transparent boundary, the closeness filled him with a strange tranquillity and vigor he hadn't know he'd needed. They remained like that for a couple of minutes, without a single word, just delighting in the only closeness allowed to them by their harsh reality.

Their moment came to a close as the spindly warden arrived. "Tick-tock," he said. "That's it, that's the clock".

It took a phenomenal effort to tear himself from the cool surface, but so the boy did. "Futaba..."

Her beautiful orbs were no longer overflowing with tears unshed. "Hm?"

"...Wait for me. I'll always be yours".

Her heartfelt smile could melt snow. "I know".


	3. Rouse

The creaking of the hardwood floor under pressure tore the leader of the Phantom Thieves from his slumber. He'd gotten pretty good at evaluating his surroundings just by sound alone during the days they'd commit daring heists in distorted Palaces, and he could very much recognize the footsteps gradually growing closer. Most of them were light, with the exception of Ryuji's, which boomed with the force of thunderclap every time he put his foot down.

Five in all, rapidly approaching. His attic room had no door to speak of. This was bad.

Not for him, mind you. If he could, he'd yell his feelings from the top of the Sky Tower for the world to hear. That wasn't the case with the lovely bundle of orange radiance and sweet dreams currently nestled against his chest.

If they found out, Futaba would not hear the end of it. She certainly would not be able to deal - she'd said as much, and that was reason alone for them to keep their little trysts a well-guarded secret.

At the moment, he felt nervous for her sake.

"Hey," he whispered to his love as he not-so-gently shook her slumbering form. "Hey, Futaba. We got incoming. Wake up!"

"Uhhh?" Disoriented, the young girl's eyelids only parted halfway as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. If this wasn't such an urgent situation, Joker thought, he would've stolen a kiss right then and there.

"Thieves coming up! Try to act natural!" he whispered quickly.

"Wuh...oh...oh!" Futaba scrambled to grab her glasses resting on the windowsill, passing on the other pair to her boyfriend, who mouthed muffled words of gratitude as he tried to put some distance between them, a task easier said than done considering their entangled limbs wrapped around bedcovers.

"Yo, bud!" Ryuji was the first to come into view, his loud footfalls accompanying him. "And...Futaba? So you were here already, huh?"

Thankfully, by the time the former track star made his entrance, they were sitting on opposite ends of the bed. Joker thanked his lucky stars for his dexterity - concealing the blanket that had been over them moments before was no mean feat.

Still, didn't Ryuji seem uncharacteristically...blurry?

"W-well," Futaba let out a nervous giggle that would'be been more at home in one of Ann's lousy performances, "I do kinda live here...well, not exactly, b-but what I mean is I have breakfast here often, r-right?"

"Uhhh...right...?" Ryuji scratched the back of his head, not quite getting why she felt the need to explain herself. Ah well. Futaba had always been a quirky one. The other Phantom Thieves had all filtered into the room at this point, and none of them seemed to notice anything particularly out of place.

Except for Yusuke, that is.

He framed Leblanc's own progeny within a rectangle formed by his fingers, as he was wont to do when seeking inspiration for his next painting. "I'll say...it's quite interesting how both of you purchased new sets of glasses. Did you shop for them together, perchance?"

Oh no, so that's why they all looked so blurry!

Ann gasped. "Hey, that's right! Are you two wearing each other's glasses?!"

Cold sweat coursed down Joker's nape. This was bad, this was very bad...! He'd take being ambushed by shadows in the Metaverse over this!

"W-we were just...trying each other's glasses!" Futaba interjected, "For fun! Just to pass the time, s-see?!"

It wasn't the best excuse, but it'd do! "Yeah. Got a bit bored waiting for you guys to arrive, is all".

Makoto placed a finger on her chin, in thought. "I suppose that's one way to pass the time..."

Haru, in the meantime, noticed there was something missing. "Um...where's Morgana?"

At that question, the cat leapt down from the rafters, landing in between the couple and the rest of the Thieves. He was giggling mischievously. Joker audibly gulped.

"Oh, don't mind me...I just decided to stay elsewhere last night because a certain duo would **NOT** stop making out the whole night," the cat confessed.

" **MONA**!" two voices, belonging to a red faced boy and girl, yelled in tandem.

* * *

 **NOTES:** Short, fluffy drabble, because I need to soften the blow of the upcoming story somehow.

Trust me, it's gonna go hard.


	4. Mementos

He stared down at the clock in the toolbar displayed in his monitor. One more minute, and his shift would be over. He didn't want to keep Yotsuba waiting too long.

His eyes wandered to the picture frame at his right, the woman depicted in the photograph almost ethereally beautiful. In exchange for taking that professional portrait all those years ago, the redhead had demanded he sit through a Featherman marathon with her. The corner of his lips curled upwards at the memory.

Futaba, our daughter's doing well, he thought. I wish you were here to see her.

The digital chronometer ticked down. It was time.

He logged off the computer, uttered pleasantries to his coworkers, and made his way to the elevators. From there, he traversed transparent security doors and emerged within the underground parking lot. Eventually, he reached his vehicle - a yellow automobile which had previously belonged to Sojiro. He had bought it off him: his former guardian lost what patience he had for traffic as he grew older.

It, too, would make him reminisce sometimes. Stuck in a jam, his love on the passenger seat connected a cable to the car sound system she had replaced a few weeks before. Cranking the volume up, they'd sing along (badly) to the songs in her playlist, made up exclusively of tunes from shows she followed.

"Feather, Feather, Featherman...let's fly high in the sky..." he chanted, tapping his finger against the wheel to imaginary rhythm as he waited for the stoplight to change.

These memories no longer made him agonize as they once did. He was grateful for that; he wished to remember her as she would've wanted - sunny and bright and smiling; witty and quirky and unquestionably unique. Not without her flaws and hang-ups, but little by little, step by step, evolving as a person (or levelling up, as she'd say).

But that took time. Losing his wife was like losing part of him; like someone had ripped open a hole in his chest and he had slowly bled out. Death by childbirth: despite her diminutive stature and health issues as a teenager, no complications were foreseen regarding Futaba's pregnancy. They arose anyway, robbing the newly-born Yotsuba of her mother before she could meet her.

Nothing in his storied life could've prepared him for that. No amount of unjust abuse, police brutality, dangers in the Metaverse...this truly was the first thing to come close to utterly break him.

But he didn't. He steeled himself, grit his teeth and pressed on despite the pain - he had a daughter to watch over. **Their** daughter. That was reason alone to soldier on like the fighter he'd always been.

Fight, he did. He had to raise a daughter on a single income, and that necessitated a career change. The irony that he, of all people, would end up in a government job was not lost on him. Regardless, he transformed his sorrow into strength and moved up through the ranks with surprising speed. Arduous work, to then come back to his daughter and her grandfather (he'd be lost without him), and to the responsibilities of a single father. Changing her diaper, giving her baths, feeding her bottle formula, putting to sleep...singing her lullabies, falling asleep with her small form cradled in his arms, only to be awakened by her crying in the middle of the night, making him more dependent than ever on caffeine.

They still thrived, thanks to everyone's support, and not just Sojiro's.

His drive was over, and with it his contemplations. The vehicle ground to a halt, and he killed the engine as he stepped out and headed for the park near Yotsuba's preschool. As he approached, he spied his daughter climbing to the top of the playground slide and couldn't help but smile as she glided down the chute into Ryuji's hands. The blond, athletic man lifted the tiny girl in his arms as she tittered in delight, allowing her to rest against his shoulder.

"Look, Unca' Ryuji!" Yotsuba, looking over Ryuji's shoulder, pointed at him. "It's papa!"

Ryuji Sakamoto, whose back had been facing his friend, spun around to greet him. "Yo, dude!" he beamed, his cheer an unchanging constant in their lives. "How was work?"

"Same as always," he admitted, shrugging. "tiresome, among other things," which I will abstain from saying around my infant daughter, he implied. "Thanks for looking after her today again," he said as Ryuji set Yotsuba back down.

"Ah, you know it's no biggie," Ryuji replied. "She might as well be my own flesh and blood. Plus, I had help today!"

Ryuji's thumb pointed at a nearby bench. Sat atop was Morgana, and the creature was not alone. Shinya occupied seat next to Mona, the young boy he once knew now a man in his own right, tearing his eyes from the university textbook he was reading to give his old friend a small wave.

He's brought back under the stage lights, cheering raucously alongside his girlfriend at the middle-schooler who had blazed a path despite all odds at the tournament, silencing those who would jeer at him for his age. The Gun About 2 Championship finals, that explosive conclusion, and taking Shinya to celebrate afterwards...

He'd be lying if he denied he felt some manner of brother-like pride at the boy's achievements.

Some small talk later, he walked with Yotsuba hand in hand, Morgana perched atop his shoulder. "How about we go visit Grandpa tonight?" he asked the owner of the little hand nestled in his.

"Yay! Grandpa Sojiro! Grandpa Sojiro!" Yotsuba whooped excitedly, revitalizing her father's weary spirit.

He drove them to Yongen-Jaya, the girl nuzzling with his catlike companion on the back seat. Even if she could not understand when he spoke, if asked who her best friend in the whole world was, she would probably say "Morgana!"

LeBlanc's interior refused to acknowledge the passage of time, its rustic, cozy atmosphere unchanged from his days as a high school student, with the exception of one new addition - a tall, oaken grandfather clock tucked in a corner, standing regal and imposing, the tempo of its ticking a comftable soundtrack piercing through the stillness.

The days had not been quite as kind to the café's owner, though. Wrinkles had deepened, hairs had whitened, and his steps did not carry the same spryness they once did. Even so, there was one thing that would never degrade, and that was his ability as a cook and barista.

Sojiro greeted them with a warm smile as Yotsuba flailed her arms. "Grandpa, curry!"

"Right, right, coming right up. Heh, seems I'm going to be responsible for another curry addiction..." Sojiro mused, a nostalgic glimmer in his eye.

Yotsuba's father chuckled before his gaze lingered at the door. It almost felt like he was sixteen again, and any minute, a short, bespectacled girl would burst in, loudly proclaiming "Sojiro, I hunger!"

He grinned a little before taking a seat on the bar, admiring his daughter as she gobbled down her warm meal.

"Coffee?" Sojiro asked his son-in-law, who nodded and gratefully accepted the cup offered.

"How was business today?" he asked his former guardian.

"Eh, slow as usual. Nothing an old geezer can't handle," Sojiro quipped. "but then again, Haru was in helping me earlier."

"The new protégé doing you proud?"

Sojiro smirked. "I'll let you know her skill as a barista might already exceed yours."

The man chuckled. "Good to hear she's getting that good, but now that my pride's on the line, I'm going to have to make time for a brew-off."

"Say, kid..." Sojiro leaned closer. "Have you thought about... you and her? It's pretty clear she still holds a torch for you."

"Yeah," he replied with a sigh. "I can't do that. I mean, I thought it'd be good if Yotsuba had a mother figure in her life, but... I couldn't do that to Haru. I love her, just... just not the way I love Futaba."

The grandfather cast his vision down, studying his hands. "Present tense, huh..." he muttered. "I had my reservations at first, but in the end...I'm glad it was you."

Sojiro's son finished his beverage without saying anything else, and after setting the cup down he rolled up his sleeves. "Thanks for the pick-me-up. Let me help you out for a bit."

"You sure?" Sojiro crossed his arms. "Aren't you tired from work?"

"It's fine, tomorrow's my day off" he answered, tossing on an apron. "Besides...what's family for?"

* * *

The apartment door swung open. Yotsuba pattered inside on bare feet, Morgana tailing close behind her. Her father lingered around the portal a bit longer, caressing the wedding band around his finger with another.

"This is our home now..." Futaba's mirage looked back at him, grinning ear to ear. It wasn't the biggest apartment, but it wasn't the smallest, either. They could build a life here. "Isn't it fantastic? Now I officially feel like your wife!"

He smiled back, the him of today and the him of yesterday blending together in a haze. "That's right. We're home".

Yotsuba peered back at him from the end of the hallway. "Did you say something, papa?"

"It's nothing. Let's go to bed, all right? We're visiting mom and grandma tomorrow."

"Okay!"

He headed towards his daughter, taking her hand into his and leading her to her room.

Yeah. They could build a life here.

* * *

 **NOTES:** The song Joker was singing near the beginning of the story is essentially the Jetman opening. Look it up in Youtube, you might be pleased to learn some Persona trivia while you're at it.

This collection was supposed to be mostly fluff, so why do I keep doing this?

Could I have an underlying motive?


	5. Last Surprise

The floor beneath his feet shook with that low rumble characteristic of a subway train in motion. He was glad he'd gotten a seat; the commute from his town to Tokyo would've been mind-numbingly boring without a good novel to kill time.

The story he read was the translated work of a British author: part of a sci-fi series narrating the harrowing exploits of the last survivors from a fallen planet; an army deployed throughout the galaxy to face off against the sinister forces which set their homeworld ablaze. They were led by an unorthodox political officer who took to the front lines with the men under his command, traversing increasingly perilous battlefields in a dark future of only war.

Somehow, the action-packed tale made him swell with courage, which was convenient: considering the nature of his plans in the capital city, intrepidity was a must.

A small voice came from his bag. "Are we there yet?" it whispered.

"Almost," he hushed his long-time companion.

Then, as if on queue, an announcement resounded through the rail car. "Next stop, Shibuya Station. Next stop, Shibuya Station..."

"Time for the line transfer," he stowed the book into one of his bag's side pockets before making his way outside.

The game was afoot.

* * *

Blending in was important, so he'd changed to his old Shujin Uniform in a public bathroom stall before sneaking into the school through the back door. Granted, as he traversed the hallways as casually as he could, people still turned their heads, questioning if their eyes were deceiving them.

 _"Hey, is that..."_  
 _"No way, he went back to his hometown, didn't he?"_  
 _"I heard his record was cleared..."_

It was better than strutting around in casual wear, at least. Now that would be the very definition of conspicuous. Keeping his head down, he dug in his pocket for his vibrating phone and opened the messaging application.

 **Skull One** : I have confirmed visual, Red Leader.  
 **Skull One** : The VIP is in the gym with the rest of her class. Mission is a-go.

Roger!

Quickly, he strode towards his destination: a certain first-year classroom. As the door slid open sideways, he caught sight of one of his co-conspirators, grading papers behind the teacher's desk.

"Took you long enough," Sadayo Kawakami snappily ribbed, still focused on her current task.

"Hello to you too, Becky."

"Pfeh. Still as cocky as ever, I see," the teacher bemoaned, hiding a sly grin.

"You started it. Nice to see you again, teach."

She placed the school work down, gifting him a genuine smile. "The feeling's mutual, even if you can be quite the handful".

" _Quite_ the handful? Isn't that selling me short?" the boy grinned sharply.

"Right, right." Kawakami rolled her eyes. "Just don't expect me to enable any more of your little stunts again. Today's an exception."

"That's fine by me. I just need one go at this. So, which one's her seat?"

"Third from the back, second row from the windows," Kawakami said as she pointed at the position.

The messy-haired youth made his way to the bench before reaching into his bag (earning him a "hey, watch it!" from his feline companion) and producing two items: an envelope, and a featureless rectangular box made of thin, glossy white paperboard. He lifted the wooden top of the desk and stowed away the articles within.

"All right, that's that," the young man said. "Time for phase two. I'm heading to the Faculty Office."

Kawakami glanced at her watch. "You'll get your opening precisely at 10:52 AM. Better be ready. Good luck."

He gave a nod before leaving. The timepiece around his wrist indicated gym period would be over soon, so he scurried to his destination before there was any chance he'd prematurely stumble upon the target.

* * *

"Thank you again for offering to talk to the class. I was quite surprised when I received your e-mail with the idea." the tanned teacher chirped, her face caked in excessive make-up. Good to see some things never changed. "An experience like yours will prove invaluable to help the first years realize what an exceptional institution Shujin Academy is!"

Despite appearances, Ms. Chouno was a fiercely dedicated teacher. He had to acknowledge as much.

"...But doesn't it bother you to talk about your...'misunderstandings' with law enforcement?" she asked the former Phantom Thief.

Her way of showing concern for students might be different from Kawakami's, but the relationship between the two had grown amicable over time when they realized their goals were essentially aligned; both educators by vocation.

It almost made him feel bad for his scheming. Almost.

"It's not a problem. I'm actually looking forward to sharing my story; you never know when someone in a similar situation might be listening," he replied, putting the speech skills imparted to him by Toranosuke Yoshida to the test.

"An outlook befitting a Shujin alumnus!" Chouno happily praised as they neared the classroom the boy had visited just a little while ago. "Allow me to speak to the students first, and then I'll usher you in."

"Understood. I'll be waiting outside."

The woman strolled into the classroom and he stood by a spot where he could remain unseen, while still able to hear her addressing the class with her trademark "Hello everyone!". He stared at his wristwatch; _Tick-tock, tick-tock_. 10:52 was fast approaching.

Luckily, he was summoned before the clock struck: "Please, come in!"

 **Showtime**!

When he set foot in the classroom, he heard a familiar voice gasp. Good, he still had it in him to steal his girlfriend's breath away.

 _"Who's this guy?"_  
 _"My sister once told me of a delinquent fitting his description..."_  
 _"Wow, he's so hooooot!"_  
 _"Hey, Futaba, are you all right? He-llo? Earth to Futaba!"_

"Now, students, allow me to introduce-"

Ding-ding-ding-ding! The PA system blared to life. 10:52 on the dot, as his former teacher had promised. "Ms. Chouno, your presence is required in the Faculty Office. Ms. Chouno, please come to the Faculty Office..."

"I was just there!" Chouno sighed exasperatedly before turning to her guest. "...Can you watch over the class in the meantime?"

"Absolutely." Little did she know that this was all part of his plan.

The teacher departed with all due haste, leaving the former leader of the Phantom Thieves alone with his girlfriend alongside a classroom's worth of freshmen.

"Okay," he cleared his throat. "Before I begin, there's something very, very important I need to say," he advanced towards a particularly petrified redhead.

"Happy Birthday, Futaba."

 _"He knows Sakura?"_  
 _"Oh! Maybe she can introduce me!"_  
 _"What's with that look?"_

She finally managed to regain her bearings somewhat. "W-when I didn't hear from you today, I thought maybe you had forgotten..."

He snorted before flashing a sharp, confident grin. "There's no way I could ever forget."

 _"Oh snap."_  
 _"A-are they..."_  
 _"...This is better than one of my dramas!"_

"I got you something, of course," he lightly tapped the wooden surface of her desk with his knuckles, ignoring the rapt attention her classmates were devoting to the unfolding scene. "Why not check it out?"

She was visibly nervous, but excitement won over jitters and she soon had her gifts in front of her.

 _"Oh man, what could those be?!"_  
 _"How did those get in there, anyway?"_

She decided to start with the box. Lifting the tab, she peered inside. "W-whoa..."

He ruffled his hair a bit. "You like it?"

Futaba had always loved figures, so it was natural for him to capitalize on that. The dexterity developed by crafting infiltration tools last year had made transitioning into sculpting more viable that he'd imagined. Of course, even with his proficiency, learning how to execute such painstakingly detailed a process wasn't at all easy, but the end result looked like it'd been crafted by a years-seasoned veteran. He'd loath to admit just how many tries it took to get the resin molds just right, and he totally did not get whipped across the face by a flailing air hose in a compressor accident while stowing away his airbrush one time. No, Futaba's boyfriend was above such uncool happenings, thank you very much!

 _"Hey, is that like, a pair of anime characters?"_  
 _"That sort of gift totally fits someone like Sakura, doesn't it? He must know her very well!"_  
 _"Could it be that dreamy upperclassman is actually a dweeb...?"_  
 _"I don't recognize that figure. It must be a garage kit!"_  
 _"Hey, the base has the Phantom Thieves logo!"_

(He'd have to take Yusuke to dinner now that he was in town. The artist's sketches proved to be the perfect reference material as he toiled away in the workbench, and he had to show his gratitude somehow)

The figure itself actually depicted both him and his girlfriend, but the onlookers wouldn't be able to tell. After all, they were wearing their Thieves outfits in the miniature master-work. The scale Oracle was carried in Joker's arms, bridal-style, her own limbs around his neck, a leg sticking out into the air and her hair trailing along a swooshing arc. It was as if the scene portrayed her leaping at Joker, only for him to catch her.

As for Futaba, she was at an evident loss for words.

"Hey, Futaba?" the young man crossed his arms as he gestured towards the envelope. "You saving the best for last?"

"Whoah, there's more?!"  
"I think Sakura's brain might explode."  
"Hoo boy, who knew high school life could be this exciting?!"

"B-best?" Futaba stammered, still trying to grasp the entirety of this surreal situation. "Y-you couldn't possibly top this...there's no way..."

He gave her the most intransigent, cocky smirk he could muster. "Try me."

 _"Whoooooooooah."_  
 _"This guy is my idol!"_  
 _"Kyaaaaaaaa~~!"_  
 _"Show me your moves, boss!"_  
 _"...this is way, WAY better than one of my dramas!"_

With trembling hands, she reached for the envelope, wondering how this could possibly top a figure custom-made just for her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the papers.

She immediately understood.

...These were a copy of a school transfer application.

Her boyfriend was coming back to Tokyo.

She stared numbly at the paperwork, astounded. Then she glanced back at him. Back to the papers. Back to him.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she all but tackled the young man, who braced with an "Oof!" as she nuzzled into his chest.

 _"OH MAN!"_  
 _"No way! How did the tiny nerd score such a hunk?"_  
 _"Aww, so he was her boyfriend after all..."_  
 _"I need to ask Sakura where I can find a guy like that!"_  
 _"...I wanted to ask Sakura out, too..."_  
 _"He has good taste in girls, that's for sure!"_

Her body quivered as her tears soaked his uniform, but she was smiling, perhaps more radiantly than ever before. "Welcome home..." she uttered.

"I'm home," he whispered as he placed his hand atop her head.

* * *

 **NOTES:** If you recognize the book Joker was reading, please make haste to the nearest Departmento Munitorum office branch, as you've earned a complimentary Purity Seal.

Hope you enjoyed the fluff after the last story was more on the sad side. I wanted to make something that revolved around Joker's show-off nature.

This is also dedicated to my never-ending disappointment to the fact that you can only build Infiltration Tools at your desk. When I see a cutting mat, I want to build Gunpla or miniatures! So I thought Joker would be pretty good at modeling/casting.

Also the "wild air hose" is something that happened to me, but it was actually with a pneumatic ratchet while working on a truck. Luckily it didn't actually hit anyone.

Hey, maybe I should write Joker fixing Sojiro's car next.

Also, join me in prayer for a Futaba Figma. I want that more than any of the upcoming statues, because having Futaba in a bridal carry with the already-announced Figma Joker is the dream.


	6. Intermission: Icy Gaze

I had a dream last night. It's hazy, but I can remember a little. I'll try to piece together what I can recall.

In it, I saw you, resting uncomfortably against a wooden table. When you awoke, you found yourself thrust into a living nightmare.

I can remember you screaming. Fighting for your life, you defend yourself, and yet, when the bullets put down whatever sort of monster you faced...why do you seem so hurt?

You stalk eerily-lit hallways, and windows break. Four-legged horrors lunge at you with breakneck speed. I can't make out what they are, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize their intent to kill.

You see...ghosts? I can hear you talking to people who aren't there. Sometimes, their presence seems to relax you. Other times, they terrify you. I had never seen such an expression on you.

Your footsteps echo against marble.

...That's all I can recollect.

I'm a goddamn mess.

I think that's the only way I could describe myself after you went missing.

You were coming to visit us. That's how we knew something was amiss.

Your whole family simply...vanished. Morgana told us as much.

He's okay, by the way; living with us now. Keeps blaming himself for taking a walk that day, only to return to an empty home.

But if he hadn't, we'd be in the dark. "No signs of forced entry", "left the country, passport numbers match emigration records". Police lying their asses off as usual. Morgana painted a different picture: broken window, a strange stuffiness in the air, and a suspicious canister lying atop glass shards.

Who took you away? Why?

I haven't been able to find anything online, no matter what server I crack into. You've essentially become a ghost.

Are you...safe? Are you even still alive?

...

...Of course you are. I won't let myself believe otherwise. You HAVE to be alive.

I'll look for you. We all will. We all ARE.

There's a strategy meeting coming up. Everyone's doing their best to find you. We've even let some newcomers into the fold - they're all familiar faces to you. People you grew to care about during your time here. They all want to do their part, too.

Mishima has an idea. He says it's a long-term deal, though. He's going to explain it in today's meeting.

You know...I was going to confront you about that time when I saw you. When I asked you why you were always so nice to me. I can't forget the expression you wore back then, when you said it was because we were teammates and close friends. I have a hard time forgetting things, I told you once, but even if that were not the case, I would still remember. It's unerasable.

Were you hiding something from me? It looked that way.

I need to know why. Why you looked so sad when you said that.

I'll keep working hard to find you so I can get an answer from your own. That's a promise.

I...I understand my feelings for you now. It took me a while and I couldn't believe the answer was something so obvious...some genius I turned out to be, huh?

That was something else I wanted to talk to you about.

I'm in love with you, and only you, so...

I want those feelings to reach you, somehow. That's why I'm writing this.

I'll keep looking for you. I won't let myself be consumed by it, though. I know that's not the Futaba you'd want to come back to. That's not the Futaba I want to be, either. For both our sakes, I'll hang in there.

Don't worry about me. I might be a mess right now, but I'll get it together. That's another promise! These are in writing, too, so you know how serious I'll get about them!

So promise me this much: wherever you are, you'll come back to us safely. I'll hold you out on that.

* * *

Her fingers hovered over her keyboard. Her strokes had given way to the stream of her thoughts but nothing else came to her now. Huffing, she saved the text file to her desktop (something she would usually loath to do as proper directories are important). Exiting the room, she made her way to the restroom, and bloodshot eyes stared back at her from inside the mirror. So that dream had made her cry, huh...

The time for the meeting was soon approaching. She fixed her dishevelled hair as much as possible, threw water on her face, and tried her best to resemble a functional human being. Eventually satisfied with the results, she made her way to Leblanc, hoping Yuki Mishima's plan wouldn't be a waste of time.

* * *

 _Tick-tock._

 _Tick-tock._

 _Tick-tock._

That infernal noise came from the grandfather clock behind him.

 _Tick-tock._  
 _Tick-tock._  
 _Tick-tock._

His eyes parted slowly, groggy. His blurry vision adjusted gradually to the dim lightning, and the first thing he noticed was a watch on his left arm, its face worn on the inside of his wrist. The accessory, which he had no knowledge of ever donning, did not tell the time: instead, a green line rose and dipped quickly in sharp, pointed waves. No doubt about it: the digital display showed an electrocardiograph, presumably his own.

Within reach, near his sprawled arms stood a knife, its black blade driven menacingly into the wood of the large table the young man rested against. Its cross-shaped shadow was cast eerily over his face, filling him with a sense of dread.

 _Tick-tock, tick tock..._

He reached for its handle and pulled it out in a single, swift motion, the weapon heavy in his hand.

He had no idea how or why he got here, but...

The boy roused himself from the oaken chair and made his way out of the gigantic chamber - apparently a lavishly decorated dining room - through a heavy set of double doors. He emerged on the western side of a foyer that dwarfed the space he just walked out of.

...Was this place a mansion?

Gripping the knife in his hand a little tighter, he ventured forth...

* * *

 **This world of nightmares is not one you belong to, yet...**

 **...you, too, must overcome your fears and survive.**


End file.
